


Winter Is Coming (It Just Ain't Gonna Be Pretty)

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Punching, Sadism, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28626630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: “This must have always beeninsidehim, Steve,” Winter murmurs in a high-pitched breathy tone, impersonating a therapist. “You’re the artist—you know you can’t shape a sculpture from nothing. So this was somewhere, lurking, when he went on all his pretty little dates with those pretty little girls. Good becomes great, bad becomes… me.” He drops the impression and lapses into his normal tone, slipping his fingers out. “Now how does that make youfeel?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56
Collections: STB Bingo: Round One





	Winter Is Coming (It Just Ain't Gonna Be Pretty)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the STB Bingo square, Winter. 
> 
> CW: This is some _dark shit_. Technically consensual, but in a “Steve is a martyr and a guilty emotional masochist and hopes his Bucky is in there somewhere” way. Winter/the Soldier is pretty unapologetically getting off on his sadism and using Steve as a sort of fucked-up therapy. Sadism in the original sense of the word, getting off on others’ actual pain/misfortune. Also discussion of trauma and violence. It’s not full-on HYDRA Trash Party, but it does include descriptions of how the Soldier was brutalized in captivity as told by Winter to Steve. The descriptions are straight-forward and fairly brief, but what happened to him is extreme. I also feel like this could set off any bullying triggers. The blood, on the other hand, is very minor and brief.

The man who emerges from HYDRA / Soviet programming is not Bucky. They both know this. In private, Steve calls him Winter, and he laughs at the nickname. He calls Steve sentimental, too sentimental to call him what he is, the Soldier or the Asset. Then he bends Steve over the back of the couch and plows him until the furniture collapses. 

Steve knows he isn’t likely to get his Bucky back, but he also can’t let go of this body that he’s worshipped, the ghost of familiarity in Winter’s occasional smile. Winter exploits that, because Winter is  _ not _ Bucky.

Steve is a hardcore emotional masochist. He might not admit it to himself in so many words, but he put his lot in with this boyhood friend and won’t ever abandon him, even the shell of him. Because of that, he’s giving Winter  _ plenty _ to manipulate. Winter clearly gets off on how Steve puts up with such abuse and even almost revels in it, genuinely wanting to stay there because it makes him feel close to Bucky. Once he wonders aloud what their relationship was really like, beyond the veil of his own absent emotionality filtering Bucky’s memories. He doesn’t really seem to  _ care _ , though. He can treat Steve however he wants and never worry about losing him. And Steve knows it.

The fact that Steve has so much emotional entanglement with the man who used to occupy Winter’s body is obviously part of the draw for Winter. Because of that entanglement he can control Steve easier, hurt him deeper, without even employing any espionage tactics. Everything’s a battleground for Winter, but Steve’s body is easy-to-conquer territory, soft and defenceless under Winter’s hands. 

Steve does a lot of reading online. Though it’s a secret, they formalize their Dominant/submissive relationship with an exchange of blood. Then Winter fucks him, brutally. He comes at least four times, and loses count after that. He loses all sense of time.

“I love that you’re so fucked up,” Winter whispers in Steve’s ear one afternoon, perched over Steve’s lap where he lies back on a lounge chair. The Avengers are all close by, but not within the range of normal human hearing, and Thor isn’t on-planet. “I like that I get to break you. And they don’t even know what’s happening right under their noses.”

Later that night, Winter shoves his dick into Steve and his orgasm feels like a slap in the face, like something’s piercing him. He sucks on Winter’s tongue to ground himself and ends up just falling harder. He hates himself a little. 

“I love that you’re so fucking happy I’m safe from HYDRA that you don’t even care I’m not your boyfriend,” Winter snarls. “That you just let me use your body as my personal... fucktoy... as my punching bag.” He punctuates his point with a few punishing thrusts, and Steve’s head falls back and he keens a high-pitched cry so loud he’s afraid Tony or Natasha will hear somehow. He’s not even 100% sure he doesn’t want them to. Winter has peeled him back a layer, Bucky’s twice-confirmed death has peeled him back a layer, and now he’s raw and vulnerable and easy to take all the way down. 

“You’ll let me do  _ anything _ with this body, won’t you?” Winter growls. Steve nods frantically and starts to convulse all over when Winter holds his throat firmly with the metal hand, cutting off most of his air. Steve’s frantic little sips don’t do much to calm the rabbiting of his heart. “That’s right, my little slut. You’d let me hurt you.” He reaches down and slaps Steve’s cock hard. “You’d let me  _ violate  _ you.” Winter moans so loudly, unashamed. 

“Do you know what they made me do?” he asks in a rasp near Steve’s ear, his demeanor casually shifting on a dime. Steve shakes his head, his hind brain pricking up with instinctual fear. He’s not sure Winter meets the technical definition of a psychopath, but he’s toeing the line. “They made me take cock until I bled out, until they had to restart my heart. They did so many experiments,  _ Stevie _ ,” he drawls, imitating Bucky so perfectly that blood throbs into Steve’s cock. His eyes also prick with salt, and Winter licks his tears away as he grinds his hips against Steve’s bubble butt, his cock spearing the other supersoldier deep.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers, his body continuing to shake and seize and pump endorphins into his bloodstream so that taking Winter’s cock is all the more pleasurable. His body tries to fix damage, but when the harm is ongoing, the best it can do is give Steve a positive sensory experience. He hooks his legs over Winter’s shoulders and lays back for the ride. 

“Yeah,” Winter growls. “Take my fucking dick, you needy little pansy slut. I am going to do  _ so _ many things to you. I’m gonna hurt you the way they hurt me,” he moans in Steve’s ear. “Maybe that’ll be your contribution to society,  _ Captain America _ ,” Winter mocks, bending Steve in half and nailing him into the mattress. The steel bedframe reinforced by Tony Stark himself creaks ominously, and Winter’s dick is steady like a hammer. “You can be my ‘trauma therapy.’” He snickers and spits gently in Steve’s face.

“You know, I feel surprisingly modern. This is cathartic.” He thrusts so hard he jolts Steve’s body off the mattress. “I think I  _ like _ processing.”

~*~

A few more weeks pass. It’s a few more weeks of Winter fucking him while he cries, telling him horrific stories from his time under HYDRA. (And the worst part is, Steve’s not certain it’s  _ not _ therapeutic, that it’s not beneficial for Winter, and so he has to endure.). 

Steve says something that makes Winter laugh, bright and open, and Steve goes warm all over, beaming back, because that’s  _ Bucky’s _ smile, that’s so heartbreakingly familiar…

And then it shuts down. A curtain drops over that open expression, the mask of Winter returning. “They  _ made _ me like this,” Winter growls, slamming Steve’s back into a wall and ignoring the painting that clatters to the floor. Steve’s art is insured, but it’s still unfortunate. He wonders, a little erratically, whether JARVIS watches what goes on between them and makes the call that it’s consensual, or whether he even cares. Whether Tony would fully care. 

(He wonders how the other Avengers would react if they knew that Winter was brutally using his body like this, wrecking him emotionally, under the guise of Steve and Bucky’s relationship. Would they pity him? Be angry on his behalf? Consider it a fair trade for Steve letting Bucky fall from the train and not searching for his body?)

Said body is now flush against Steve’s, hiking Steve’s thighs up. Steve wraps his legs around Winter’s waist obligingly. Tony reinforced the apartment for “supersoldier love,” and they don’t correct him. Their love is real, Steve reasons. It just isn’t pretty.

“They made me like it like this, and so this is what I fucking am,” Winter snarls, jostling Steve’s body against the wall. “You have  _ no _ idea what that’s like, you’re such a romantic. You still believe your sweet  _ pal _ is underneath here somewhere, dontcha, Stevie? You think you can dig him out?”

“Fuck you,” Steve whsipers, but he doesn’t fight. He doesn’t stop Bucky from bruising him physically or emotionally.

“No,” Bucky snarl-smiles. “I have his memories. But I  _ like _ this. I  _ like  _ hurting you. It turns me on terribly to hurt you. This is what I am now.” He laughs and throws his arms out, his hips still bracing Steve against the wall. “I am Bucky Barnes, broken. So you can walk away or you can choose to submit to the ruins of your dead lover, Steve. Those are your options. You don’t get a “happily ever after.”

Steve wants to sock him in the mouth. And at first, that’s exactly what he does. He shoves at Winter, drops to his feet, and then punches him as soon as he has enough distance. He wants to pour his rage, his blame, into this body of his former lover. He bloodies Winter’s mouth with his fist, but then he stalks forward, grabs Winter by the face, and kisses him hard and bloody. Winter lets him do all of this. Steve has no delusions about their relative strength. But he doesn’t really have a decision to make tonight. He made that decision  _ long _ ago. 

~*~

Steve starts seeing a therapist. Winter mocks him relentlessly. Steve admits that he’s talking with his therapist about his own reaction to Winter’s not being the same as he was before his traumatic experience—though of course, he calls him “Bucky” with her and is fuzzy on the details of the differences. Winter rubs at his asshole with three questing fingers, well-lubricated and talented in their ministrations. This is one thing that never changed—preserved muscle memory, perhaps. He holds onto it with the nostalgia of a man who has little hope of ever seeing his love again. He’s sentimental about how his boyfriend fingers him; that can’t be a good sign.

“This must have always been  _ inside _ him, Steve,” Winter murmurs in a high-pitched breathy tone, impersonating a therapist. “You’re the artist—you know you can’t shape a sculpture from nothing. So this was somewhere, lurking, when he went on all his pretty little dates with those pretty little girls. Good becomes great, bad becomes… me.” He drops the impression and lapses into his normal tone, slipping his fingers out. “Now how does that make you  _ feel _ ?” He thrusts so hard, shoving his cock up inside Steve’s body in a single push, and Steve screams. 

Bucky smirks.

“Yeah. Milk my cock, bitch. This is what you are now.”

Steve doesn’t disagree.

**Author's Note:**

> The hammer is my penis.


End file.
